


Honor

by jenni3penny



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:39:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenni3penny/pseuds/jenni3penny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU Kibbs piece that never went as far as I'd planned. Meant to be a tag for 'Under Covers', including Kate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honor

She didn't need radar or any specific triangulation system to know that he was staring at the back of her head. The distinctly familiar smell of him (and his coffee) over the office barriers was comfortingly normal, and especially when the both of them were just working and she knew he was safe and clear from harm and that he'd randomly lift his jaw to angle a look over the cubicle style walling just to be sure she was the same.

But he was staring, and hard. And for some reason he hadn't gathered his stones up enough to actually say whatever it was he was thinking.

And she'd felt his eyes on (all over) her enough to know it without needing any specific warning system or alarm bells going off.

“Stop it.” Kate murmured as she tossed off a case file onto the pile at her left, slacking back in her chair and turning her head enough to side eye his watching.

The way he was leaning an arm up made his shoulders span their full breadth and she avoided letting her glance linger for too long. “Seriously, Gibbs. What?”

He looked wickedly smug, charmingly adorable, annoyingly boyish. “Wanna go under cover?”

“With you?” She finally slacked the chair back and used the toe of her shoe to swing angling in his direction, one hand lifting to swipe her hair off her face.

“Nope.”

“Then...” Then he was obviously just being an enormous pain in her ass. He didn't need her to run around a hotel verbally slapping DiNozzo's hand away from Ziva's backside.

The new girl seemed to be handling herself just fine between the two men - she certainly didn't need assistance. “Then no. DiNozzo's wife?”

A grin flared his eyes brighter as he let his chin hedge onto his arm, voice lowering in an obvious hush of teasing. “You'd mentioned it once. Just thought I'd give you a chance to call shotgun before sending Ziva.”

“You're hilarious,” Kate rolled it off drolly, spinning her chair back and directly cutting off how well that grin would melt her into doing whatever he wanted if she kept eyes on it. “Your case, your team.”

“What if I need back up?”

It had been whispered low enough to almost sound concerned but she could still feel the shush of teasing along the back of her neck, could recognize the heat he intentionally infused into his lowered murmuring as he stayed leaning along her back. A year and a half of working with the man had given her ample education in regards to his inflections and tones. A near year of sleeping with him (kissing him, smelling him, touching him, rolling her eyes at his food choices, drinking battery acid instead of coffee) had ingrained that tone into her very lungs.

Kate turned her jaw just edging enough that she knew he could see her profile. “Then you know my number.”

“I know a few of your numbers, Agent Todd.” The continuation of that near hum of a tone obviously meant he was in a mood and it was primarily playful and all Gibbs in its execution. The bastard could make her melt into a puddle in her seat if he well wanted to – and he knew it. “I have a private list of personal favorites.”

She blithely grabbed the next report that one her team members had dropped for her before leaving, letting her shoulders sink back farther into his nearness as she flicked it open. “It'd better stay private.”

Kate intentionally shifted one skirt bared knee over the other as he chuckled behind her, her foot bouncing a little as she toed off her shoe and let it drop to the carpet of the darkened office. The swallow he made as she slipped from the other shoe was audible while he was leaned close and she couldn't control the grin she was flashing over the report she was pretending to read. Hell, work was suddenly extremely boring when he was being so obviously affectionate and teasing. It didn't happen often at work. The fact that most of the office was emptied had made him bold, given him some room to move around his rules.

Which was exactly why she'd ended up on this side of his desk in the first place, really. His rules.

“Should take priority on this one. You and me, Secret Service.” The implication was obvious and sensual in his voice, guttered even quieter as his fingers touched along the ends of her hair and then tugged gently. “Wanna play assassin, Kate?”

He was a boy in the schoolyard, yanking on her hair just before hauling ass across the playground.

This was the Gibbs she couldn't deny. The one that she'd unintentionally and completely fallen ass over teakettle for... and probably within the first days of meeting him, really.

This was the one she'd been inexplicably drawn to, unable to refuse him or his gorgeous goddamn hands or the complete honest truth in his smile.

_This_ Gibbs made having to let go of _that_ desk for another more than worth it.

“You slay me most nights, Gibbs.” She leaned her head back into the fact that he was still brazenly teasing his fingers through her hair, knowing the touching wouldn't last all that much longer. Not while in the office and especially when his former, well, partner was still in the big upstairs office. “How would it really be any different?”

“Ah.” His fingers flexed to grip into the dark silkiness of her hair, pulling her head back slowly and gentler than he could have. “You _do_ wanna go undercover.”

“I do not.” She pried her head forward, feeling his fingers loosen and stroke off her hair in response to the movement. “I'm busy working the case you all dodged so that Tony could get his rocks off at Ziva's expense.”

“You just gave me an ego stroking after a crack about making you DiNozzo's wife.” His tone slacked toward normal, although a bit accusatory. “What're you up to?”

“I don't want to go undercover.” She shook it off as she turned her head aside again, shrugging as she caught the way he leaned a little closer. “However, I wouldn't mind going to - ”

“Nope. Nuh uh.” He was rapidly shoving off the barrier between their desks, his body slacking back into his chair as he lifted a palm up in disregard to what she was about to say. “Not going.”

“C'mon.” Kate didn't whine so much as just breathe it out as she stretched her shoulders up, watching him avoid the questioning by leaning closer to his computer screen and, no doubt, squinting at his email. “Please?”

“I'm not going, Kate.”

She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug, jaw rising higher, “Even if I already have an exceptionally perfect dress?”

“What dress?”

She just snorted as she turned her attention back to the report in her hands, stretching lower and back in her chair as she refused to answer.

“Katie? What dress?”

 

* * *

 

 

“You still pouting?”

She squinted annoyance at the fact that, well, he was right. She was sorta pouting. A little. Maybe. “I do not pout.”

“You do, actually,” he disagreed with just enough warmth in his voice to sound amused, his fingers warm as they plucked at her shirt. “Just not usually where I can see you.”

Kate sighed out her frustration as his hand closed up into the fabric and gave a tug on her, tipping her balance enough to force her into turning toward him. “It's an honor just to be invited, Gibbs.”

“I realize that. I'm not... Kate, it's not my honor.”

The problem was that he seemed, clearly, absolutely sure of that.

That he deserved no recognition or honor for any of the things he had done.

“The hell it isn't, Jethro. Look at me.”

He flinched obvious embarrassment into the way she tugged at his jaw and drew his glance downward on her. “Kate.”

“Ya know... there's a difference between hubris and being just plain stubborn,” she murmured, watching his eyes thin in a whole new round of flinching disagreement.

“I don't deserve - ”

“Don't you dare finish that sentence.” He always had that proud surprise in his eyes when she went after him so sharply, always that semi amused and semi annoyed little glint in the color of them as he just lifted his head higher from her fingers into watching each tirade. “You are a damn fine Marine, Gibbs. Even retired you still take care of those men and women and if someone's decided to say 'thank you' in some way, then swallow your pride and say 'you're welcome'. You get that?”

Something awkward and shy and stilted replaced his amusement, though. Something less than confident and unfailingly Gibbs in that it was so, otherwise and in any other moment, not Gibbs at all. “I get it.”

Not everyone got to see his confidence falter. To be fair, very few saw him question it so ridiculously up close and she was surprised to see evidence of him being self conscious. She knew it wouldn't last long in front of her either, that he'd either joke himself away from it or lose patience with her prodding and revert to 'Second B for Bastard'.

“Somebody is saying 'thank you',” she murmured as she leaned closer, smiling to draw him out. “Use your goddamn manners.”

It worked, mostly. He just smirked as he shook his glance aside and away from her watching. “You really wanna wear the dress don't you?”

“I really want you to realize that there are people who appreciate you.” She dug her thumb under his lowest rib as she spoke, watched him tighten his shoulders in response and stubbornly lean into the prodding rather than away from it. “People care about you, Gibbs.”

His stoic squint was precisely what she'd expected but a twitch rose along his lips, head tipping slowly as he considered her words. “And?”

“It's not the dress,” she shot back quietly, letting her fingers wander higher and rub into the fabric of his shirt. She could nearly feel the high wattage heat of his grin without even needing to look up, her focus on her fingers as she twisted on a button to avoid his amused scrutiny.

“Naw... you really wanna see the _dress uniform_.”

Kate couldn't stop the smile that flickered over her lips any more than she could stop him from swaying her closer into his space, his hands palmed along her hips and warm through fabric. “Is that so wrong, Gunny? I put up with plenty. I think I deserve the visual.”

One brow cocked higher at her teasing, jaw inching up a fraction as he leaned into the light touching of her fingers. “Still haven't said I'm goin', Captain.”

“Can I RSVP?” She was still teasing against his button, easing it through the hole and keeping her face passive as he dropped a watching over the movement and then just cocked her an arched glance in reply. “Just in case?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged into thinning his eyes and sloping a hand down her back, tucking her closer with a palm stroking against her ass. “Depends on the case.”

“Use your manners.” Kate slapped against his hand even as she snugged closer into the pulling, letting his palm go straying into her back pocket as she rubbed her hands against his arms on a resigned sigh.

He just grinned on a wickedly smug nod as he dropped his mouth toward her clavicle. “Yes, ma'am.”


End file.
